Page 37 of When We Collide

Dean's eyes shift from mine to Anna, who stands off to the side holding the tray of untouched food. “Thank you, Anna,” he speaks softly, taking the tray from her and relieving her of her 'babysitting' duty.

Anna nods graciously. “No problem, Captain Reyes. It's lovely to meet you, Mrs Reyes.” She exits the room, closing the door behind her and leaving Dean and I alone.

My attention turns back to Dean as he strolls over to the bed, sets the tray of food on top of it and rubs the back of his neck wearily. While I’m watching him, I can't help but wonder what news he has received and what plans are in place now.

“You’ve been gone a while.” I state, studying his tired expression closely. “Please tell me there’s some news, Dean.”

Dean nods, his hands rubbing wearily over his stubbled face. His tired eyes flicker with a mixture of exhaustion and resolve as he speaks. “Yeah, sorry,” he says with a heavy sigh. “It's been a long and gruelling task sifting through all the intel.” He takes a deep breath, steadying himself before revealing the crucial information they've finally uncovered. “But we've managed to pinpoint Lukin's whereabouts and where he's holding DJ. We're just waiting for the green light from our sources to proceed with the rescue mission. Hopefully it won't be much longer now.” He explains as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small object. My gaze drops and I see that it's a photo. Dean looks at it for a moment before handing it to me. “This was sent a couple hours ago.”

My trembling fingers reach out and take the photo from him. As soon as my eyes fall on it, my heart clenches in my chest. Tears well up in my eyes as I gasp. It's a photo of my baby boy, lying on his back in a travel crib with a soft yellow blanket adorned with ducks covering his tiny body.

Relief washes over me like a tidal wave, and I can't help but cry tears of joy and gratitude. My son is alive. I hold the photo close to my chest, allowing myself to fully feel the weight of the moment. The fear and worry that has been consuming me since DJ was ripped away from me eases as I whisper, “He's alive.” I press the photo against my heart and offer up a prayer, “God, please keep my baby safe until he's back in my arms.”

Dean walks over to me and pulls me into his arms. “He will be, JJ,” he reassures me. “I know you have no reason to believe this, but DJ will be back in your arms very soon, I promise you.” I look at Dean with tear-stained cheeks and nod slowly.

“Now you know DJ is okay, please eat something and try to get some rest. There's a bathroom right outside with a shower, and towels are in the cupboard by the window there. Feel free to use any of the t-shirts in the first drawer.” He avoids looking directly at me as he speaks. “I have some work to do, but if you need anything, I'll be down the hall, two doors to the right.”

Dean walks towards the door, leaving me alone in his room with a collection of his belongings. Despite the unfamiliar setting, I feel safe and grateful for the space. I quickly change into one of Dean's t-shirts and settle onto the bed, my mind still reeling from the emotional rollercoaster of the day.

I close my eyes and whisper a fervent prayer for my son's safety, exhaustion weighing heavily on my body. In the darkness, I can hear the sound of rain pattering against the window, a steady rhythm that lulls me into a fitful sleep.

It feels like only five minutes have passed when I am jolted awake by a sharp bang that echoes through the room. My heart races with panic and my stomach clenches as I strain to identify the source of the sound. It seems to be coming from somewhere close by, and the window rattles in its frame with the force of it.

What could be causing such a loud, strident noise?

My confusion turns to relief as a bright flash of lightning illuminates the room, followed by another loud rumble of thunder. The storm must be right on top of us, and I can't help but let out a sigh of relief that it's just a natural occurrence and not something more sinister. Though I've never been a fan of thunderstorms, especially ones that feel so close you can almost touch them. Picking up my phone that I left by the pillow I check the time and see it’s four in the morning. Jesus, I’ve only been asleep for over an hour.

Where the hell is Dean? Why isn’t he back yet?

I look around the room. The sandwich sits uneaten on the tray where Dean left it. The bread now hard and stale. The thought alone of food has my stomach rolling unpleasantly. There is no way I’m going to sleep now so I slide out of bed and pull my jeans and trainers on and walk out of the room on the hunt for my husband.

I remember him saying he would be two doors down the corridor, so I head there first. I press my ear against the door, listening for any movement or sound from the other side but it’s dead silent. Lifting my hand, I knock a couple of times and wait patiently for him to answer or beckon me in, but I get neither. Maybe he’s asleep? My fingers find the door handle and I slowly push it down and open the door quietly, peeking through the crack I see the bed is still made and there is no sign of Dean.

A sense of unease settles in the pit of my stomach.

Where the hell are you, Dean?

As the heavy door clicks shut behind me, I lean against it and breathe out a heavy sigh. The long corridor ahead is dimly lit, casting eerie shadows that seem to dance along the walls. Shall I go looking for him or stay put and hope he returns soon? My mind races with worry, not wanting to cause any more trouble for him by wandering around unsupervised. After all, we are on a military airbase, and I highly doubt they would take kindly to an unauthorized visitor snooping through restricted areas.

The air feels charged with tension, and I can’t seem to shake off the unease creeping up my spine. Shall I risk it and venture off on my own, or trust that he will return soon? Maybe I can find someone to help me locate him or ask around. I’m sure someonewill know where he is. Deciding on the latter I manage to find my way outside, retracing the steps with Anna earlier. The rain is coming down hard and I shiver when the cool air hits me and I wrap my arms tighter around myself while I seek out anyone to help me find Dean.

In the distance, my ears pick up the sound of voices and I instinctively follow it. Through the haze of smoke, I spot two young men in crisp cadet uniforms engaged in casual conversation. As I approach, they turn to look at me with identical expressions of surprise.

“Excuse me,” I interrupt, drawing their attention. “I'm looking for Dean. Have you seen him or know where he might be?”

“Dean?” one of them repeats, an Irish twang in his voice. “You'll have to be more specific, darlin'. We've got a few Deans round here.” He grins and flashes me his pearly whites.

“Reyes,” I roll my eyes. “I'm looking for Captain Reyes.”

“Ahh, you must be Bullseye's missus,” the other cadet chimes in, giving me a once-over with an appreciative look. OneIcertainly do not appreciate. “Now I understand why the ole boy couldn't stay away. Hell, I wouldn't either.” His words are laced with a hint of teasing flirtation and I can feel my skin prickle with discomfort.

I choose to ignore his flirty remark and ask, “I’m sorry?Bullseye?”

They both nod, “He's in the hanger with his baby.” The shorter one voices and cocks his head to the side smiling mischievously, “Or shall I say hisotherbaby.” Not liking his suggestive tone, I bite the inside of my cheek as I cross my arms over my chest andglare at him, my expression grim, and the smarmy git responds with an amused laugh.

“Lucas, shut the fuck up. Have some damn respect. You’re talking to the Captain’s wife. Come on, I'll take you to him.” The politer one of the two says as he puts his cigarette out and gestures for me to follow him.

God, I would like to see Dean sock him in the mouth for making suggestive remarks. Also, what the hell did he mean by ‘his other baby’which other baby is he referring to?

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